


Hey, Little Songbird

by LadyFoxglove



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: (attempted), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Damsels in Distress, F/M, Flirting, Flirty Bastard, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, I'm not good at characterization yet, Interspecies Romance, M/M, Mutual Pining, My brain threw tropes at me and I said "On God I will make this coherent", OOC, OOC Crosshairs, Other, Rated M for cussing, Robot/Human Relationships, Self worth issues I guess?, Singing, Slow Burn, Tsundere, Yes I know he's an asshole in canon but fuck it he drinks his respect women juice, Yes I saw Hound and Drift try to kill each other in AoE; I don't like that, assholes to lovers, coffee shop AU, rescue romance, this is my fanfic; deal with it, you're not allowed to make me feel shame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 18:13:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28835418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyFoxglove/pseuds/LadyFoxglove
Summary: So yeah! If you want a better description than I can give, @crossbust on Tumblr made a gorgeous human Crosshairs design, so go look for them: https://crossbust.tumblr.com/post/163014389327/wanna-take-a-spin-wanna-take-a-roll-you-know  . This is the first fanfic I've done, so constructive criticism is much appreciated! Sorry the chapter's so short.
Relationships: Crosshairs/Reader, Crosshairs/You, Drift | Deadlock/Hound, Me/Crosshairs
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Local Autobot Beats Up Incel, More at 11

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Sunflower_Seed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Sunflower_Seed/gifts).



> So yeah! If you want a better description than I can give, @crossbust on Tumblr made a gorgeous human Crosshairs design, so go look for them: https://crossbust.tumblr.com/post/163014389327/wanna-take-a-spin-wanna-take-a-roll-you-know . This is the first fanfic I've done, so constructive criticism is much appreciated! Sorry the chapter's so short.

The coffee shop was bustling. The bell over the door rang continuously with the steady stream of people coming in and leaving. Morning sunlight filled the café, illuminating laughter and smiles visible for the first time in years. You were working behind the counter, making drinks-frappe, black coffee with two sugars, hot cocoa (it was a cold, bright day, but who orders hot cocoa in spring?).

A shout suddenly breaks the busy harmony of the café.

“Get away from her!”

The people part, away from the source of the noise, and you can see them; two men and a woman. The first man; well, you could just _tell_ that he was the sort of dickhead who harassed women. The second man wore a huge green trench coat and mismatched goggles, one lens red and one blue, pushed up onto his head. The woman, behind him, was very clearly uncomfortable to have so much attention on her.

The man in the trench coat straightened up. His hand went to his waist, and he seemed mildly surprised, if the quick quirk of his eyebrows was any indication, to find nothing save his vest, tucked into the waistband of his pants. He continued, in his loud, Australian-accented voice, “Do you not know how people work, or are you just more of a dick than I am? She said she didn’t want to talk to you!”

The woman was now awkwardly staring up at the ceiling with a face somewhere near the intersection of thanks, dissociation, and just wanting to drink her fucking coffee in peace. She grabs the trenchcoated man’s arm and says something quietly.

“Whaddaya mean, leave him alone?”

She says something again, that you can’t hear from your spot behind the counter.

“He was bein’ a dick to you!”

She gestures to everyone watching, and he seems to decide to rein himself in. You go back to your drink orders behind the counter.

The telltale _Crunch_ of crushed plastic. When you look up, the trenchcoated man has knocked the asshole’s drink out of his hand. The woman seems to have recognized that she’s not going to stop either of them anytime soon, and has taken a few steps away from the men, who are now locked in melee.

You sigh. You’ll have to clean that up.

Two other men near the door-one in dark blue armor and the other in green fatigues-have transitioned from looking a little lost to _so goddamn done_. The man in blue has his face in one hand, shaking his head, and the man in green is just staring up at the ceiling as the fight escalates. A lot of people are leaving the coffee shop, but they stay. Maybe they're with one of the men, because they seem like they're not leaving until the fight's done, moving away from the door while keeping eyes on the fighting men. 

The man in the green trenchcoat backs away from the fight momentarily, laughing. As you take another look at him, you realize he's quite attractive; tan skin, high cheekbones, tidy beard, eyes the same shade of bright green as his trenchcoat. 

The other man is stumbling from the trenchcoat man's blows, and the man in green is just laughing at him, with not even a split lip. 

The asshole runs out of the coffee shop, and the green man leans against one of the booths as you grab your cleaning supplies. When you come out from behind the counter to clean it up, the woman from earlier is nervously thanking the trenchcoated man for sticking up for her.

"Ah well, thanks luv, but what else would I have done?"

She thanks him again and leaves the shop. 

As you attempt to clean up the drink, he bends over to help you. "Why are ya cleaning it up?"

What exactly does one do when faced with such a question? You glare at him. "Because I _work here_. So thanks for the mess."

"Well, maybe I could," he winks, "make it up to you."

You hear a slap. Over near the door, the man in green has joined his friend in facepalming at your trenchcoated friend. The armored man glares daggers at the trenchcoated flirt. 

It doesn't stop the trenchcoated man from leaning against the nearest booth and making eyes at you. _Eyes_ , goddamn. You're blushing and looking away almost as soon as he starts, and his companions sigh in exasperation.

When you're done, he flirtatiously orders a tea. As it steeps, the tension in the room is thick enough to cut with your fingernails. When you hand him the tea, your hands touch for a second. His hands are hot to the touch, and having taken the tea, he gives you a wink and a "see ya tomorrow, luv."

You're still blushing a few minutes after the trio leaves, too flustered to realize he didn't pay. 

"Must you?" Drift sighs as they walk back to their alt modes, parked in an alleyway. 

"What?" Crosshairs replies, as if he doesn't know exactly what he's talking about.

"Be such a..." Hound has forgotten the word.

"I believe the human term is _slut_." Drift finishes.

"I am NOT-"

"You can't even drink the tea!"


	2. Breaking News: Hot Guy Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mysterious hot guy returns. Also, here's some art of the AoE gang, from only the best of humanformers artists: https://crossbust.tumblr.com/post/156797196137/its-the-boys  
> I got his human name from this post (https://crossbust.tumblr.com/post/179957976407/saga-why-are-you-angry-crosshairs-im-not) and from listening to the prologue of Natasha, Pierre, and the Great Comet of 1812 too many times.  
> Here's a drawing of human Crosshairs without his coat: https://crossbust.tumblr.com/post/157815839807/doodles-of-crosshairs-without-his-jacket

Starting from this chapter, I will be using _italics_ for your internal monologue, emphasis, onomatopoeia, or written stuff. 

When you look up from checking your watch, the trenchcoated man from yesterday is at the front of the line.

“Told ya I’d see ya, sweetheart.”

“Y-yeah, you did.” _Seriously?? “Yeah, you did”? Just say something coherent!! Ask him his goddamn name!_

“Well, I had to make good on my promise.” He leans close to you, close enough that you can smell something between ozone, burning, and steel coming off him. You suppress the urge to lean closer in turn.

He drops his voice. “Same as yesterday, luv.” He’s just ordering tea, why does it sound so … _salacious?_ You hope he can’t see the blood in your cheeks.

You grab the pot of boiling water, but your hand shakes a little, and the water splashes all over your left hand. The _hiss_ of air between your teeth at the pain alerts him.

He grabs your hand, bringing it to his face. “You okay?” Distantly, you remember those classic high fantasy movies you watched as a child, where the hero would kiss the heroine’s hand as his first flirtation. Your blush becomes even worse, and you jerk your hand away, hurriedly grabbing a paper towel to wipe off the boiling water. You turn your face away as you start to wipe up the counter. “Y-yeah, I’m fine.”

There is no way your flustered-ness isn’t immediately visible within a 20-meter radius. You fumble for words. “What’s your name?”

He looks mildly surprised, almost panicked, as if he doesn’t know what to tell you, or somehow wasn’t expecting the question. But that’s absurd-who doesn’t know their own name?

“André.” He draws out the _a_ , almost testing the sound, seeing if he likes it. He makes a little noise toward the end of it, making _André_ sound more like _Arndré_.

“Y/N.” You stammer a little. _Damn!_

“We get it, you think they’re hot!” A voice calls from down the line. Your face gets, impossibly, hotter as André yells something about having good taste. You drop the tea bag into the cup, put it in the small bit of counter you keep reserved for steeping teas, and move onto the next customer as André sidles over to one of the windows. His eyes don’t leave you for the next few minutes, until you deliver his drink yourself.

When you hand him the tea, he smiles, but doesn’t drink it. He still looks the same as yesterday; collared shirt, vest and pocketwatch, and slacks tucked into combat boots under huge, distinctive green trenchcoat. He gives you a wink. “Thanks, luv. Delicious.”

_Goddamit, will you ever stop blushing around him?_

“Um. Thank you…” you trail off, unsure what to say next. _Holy shit, his eyes are gorgeous…_

At some point, you realize you’re just kind of staring at his face.

He chuckles a little. “Luv, I know I’m gorgeous, but are you okay?”

“No.”

He grabs your hand again, and as your hopefully-discreet blush worsens again, you notice that the other two men from yesterday aren’t there.

“Where are your friends?”

He looks up from examining your hand. “Apparently they had ‘better things to do’,” he mimes the air quotes, rolling his eyes, before looking back to your face. “Can’t imagine what they were talking about.”

You have no idea what to say to that. You’re staring at him again, and he doesn’t say anything either. You stay like that, watching the sunlight from the window bounce off the glass of his goggles, and-

“Y/N!”

Your coworker, Catherine, is looking rather frazzled back at the counter. “Hon, I know you haven’t gotten any in a long while-”

“You did _not_ need to tell everyone that, I’ll get back to it!” You keep your eyes glued to the floor, sticking to the people who seem to be mired in secondhand embarrassment instead of braving the ones sniggering at her comment as you weave your way back to the counter. You sullenly notice that the second set of people includes André.

She hands you drinks, and you dutifully call out the names scribbled on the sides. You return to making drinks as she takes orders.

When the rush slows down, you look up. André is nowhere to be found. Not a surprise, but you wonder at how you didn't even notice him leave.

“How long will you keep this up?”

Crosshairs ignores the question.

“You know we can’t stay in one place for too long.” The alley isn’t big enough for the three of them in their true forms, so Hound and Drift’s holoforms are leaning against each other and the wall.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Too much risk of humans catching us. _Fuck_ humans! Little-” he switches into Cybertronian to continue monologuing, yelling to the alleyway until his holoform stands as a miniature version of his real self, instead of an approximation of what he might look like as a human.

“And yet you go through all this trouble trying to-”

“Hound.”

“Sorry, hon.” Hound gives his boyfriend a kiss on the cheek, an odd sight to see in holo. Drift continues his train of thought.

“But really, Crosshairs, what exactly are you trying to accomplish here?”

When Catherine is cleaning, she finds the cup of now-cooled tea spilled over the floor, labeled _Andre_ on the side in your prettiest handwriting. She doesn't have the heart to tell you that the rake didn't even bother to throw away the cup, or, apparently, drink any of the tea.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that I made y'all wait so long for a new chapter. Finals (the school year was pushed back, so we had finals a few weeks ago) and then the winter storm over Texas, and life in general have been kicking my ass, and I'm lucky I haven't lost power yet (although my family did lose water). But yeah, you get another chapter of Crosshairs flirting with one nervous blushy barista and getting called a slut for it! I also added some side characters. Please, tell me what you think! Comments and constructive criticism are so much appreciated, and all the love has been so amazing to receive! Thank you so much!

You’re working behind the counter again when the first dregs of the weekday noon rush come in. The Rose Café is the nearest coffeeshop to the local high school, so some of the kids come here to spend lunch and get coffee and sweets.

The first in are a tall goth girl, her hair done in cornrows. Her girlfriend, Cassandra, follows close behind her, rambling about-well you can’t tell from twenty feet away, but Laquisha is staring down at Cassandra with all the affection on Earth. As they come up to the counter, you smile and nod. They’ve been regulars since last year, and they’ll be graduating in a few months.

“Usual?”

“Yeah!”

You start on Laquisha’s iced coffee and Cassandra’s tea as they go to one of the tables near the windows. It’s only a bit until you call their names and Cassandra comes to get the drinks.

“What are you reading today?”

“Oh, rereading Pride and Prejudice.”

“Like you’ve done since you first came in?”

“Yeah, it’s a good book!”

The girls are sweet, and it’s not just customer service peppiness in your voice as you talk to Cassandra. They’re nice kids, and you’ll miss them when they graduate.

The door bell rings again.

It’s Andre, strutting toward you with the same self-assured smile he always has.

When he reaches the counter, he leans down to rest on his elbows, trench coat settling over his ass. Cassandra and Laquisha are acting like they’re not staring, but you can feel their eyes on you. Or maybe it’s just Andre, because he makes you feel like you’re in a spotlight.

“Usual, luv?”

The few customers in the café break out into intrigued whispers at that; who was this man, whom most of them had never seen, but who already had a usual?   
You give a small giggle. “Oh, anything for you, Andre.” _Yes! I actually flirted with him!_

He raises an eyebrow. “Anything?”

“Uh…” you’re a stammering mess. Just a moment ago you were managing to flirt with him, and now… how does he always manage to make you feel like this?

He laughs. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t ask _anything_ of you.”

You’re unsure what that means, and the confusion follows you as you give him his tea.

“Andre…what did you mean by _anything_?”

“Oh, somethin’ really big, f’ you. Murder, real danger, runnin’ off.” He winks at you on that last one, and you’re just more confused and a little scared. What reason could he possibly have to ask you to put yourself in danger for him, or even for that matter, to kill? You’re feeling more and more uncertain about him, and you curse yourself for falling so hard for a charming stranger whom you met in the first place because he was beating someone up in your coffee shop.

He takes the tea and leans back against the wall. Over the next half hour, he seems to just be standing there…posing? You never see him drink the tea, though. Maybe he just likes it cold.

Just as yesterday, you look up at one point and he’s just gone. Laquisha and Cass are staring at the spot where he was, too. They seem shocked, but that’s probably just from seeing a new regular at the coffee shop. You turn back to keeping the counter clean.

“Again?” Drift’s voice is tired and exasperated.

“Slag off, I’m not hurting anyone!”

“Oh, not yet.”

“This one’s lasting longer than usual, Cross. What’s the trouble with em? Do they know better than to fuck some stranger?”

“You take that back, you-”

Drift sighs as they dissolve into bickering again.


End file.
